


This Everyday Love (Is Anything But Ordinary)

by Tahlruil



Series: Loving You Is Easy (It's Life That's Hard) [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers-centric, Stony Bingo, Stony Bingo 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 05:16:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10869876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: With a boyfriend like Tony Stark, there isn't really any such thing as an ordinary day. Still, there are some things Steve's learned to count on, and some things he hopes last forever.For the 'Day-in-the-life' prompt.





	This Everyday Love (Is Anything But Ordinary)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. For some reason I absolutely fell in love with this 'verse - I couldn't tell you why. But this square fit, and there are three other squares I have (at least) that will also end up in this setting. So yeah. XD Next in this series is either 'sharing a bed' or 'a battle/fight/confrontation' - any preferences?
> 
> I'd super appreciate any comments! <3 Thanks so much for reading. :D

“You’re not eating. Why are you not eating? Are we fighting? Did I forget we’re fighting?”

“We’re not fighting, Tony. I sorta think you’d remember if we were.”

“Maybe. Remember that time I forgot that February only has twenty-nine days?”

“Twenty-eight, mostly. Twenty-nine is every four years.”

“Oh. Huh. … is this one of those years?” 

“No sweetheart. And since it’s June you wouldn’t have to worry about it either way.” 

“Good. Wait. Shit. See? I could definitely forget we’re fighting, Steve. But we’re not?” 

“We are definitely not fighting.” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

“Then why aren’t you eating?” 

Rolling his eyes, Steve finally looked away from his portfolio and reached for a piece of bacon. He took an exaggerated bite just to tweak his boyfriend’s nose, but the sigh of pleasure he gave after swallowing was real. Tony was a great cook, though only a handful of people knew it, and he always made bacon just the way Steve liked it. 

“Happy?” 

“Not if that’s all you’re gonna eat I’m not.” 

“Sweetheart…” he tried hard to push down his irritation, because he knew Tony had a thing about food. It was important to him for reasons Steve didn’t entirely understand, but to Tony food meant love. So not eating something he’d cooked? That was the quickest way to have the idiot genius feeling insecure about their relationship. He’d probably forgotten about the interview Steve had in a couple hours, and since they were at Steve’s apartment, JARVIS wasn’t there to remind him. “Sorry. I’m just a little distracted. I want to make sure everything’s perfect before I head out.” 

“Oh! Right. Babe, you’ve reordered those pieces seven times in the past two days – or at least that’s how many times _I’ve_ seen, but I bet there were more.” Steve ducked his head guiltily, because yeah – there’d been a _lot_ of other times when he’d been alone. He’d been obsessing maybe a little. Maybe to the point where he hated everything he’d ever drawn ever and was contemplating becoming an accountant. If he were an accountant, nobody would care that he couldn’t create art worth a damn. “You are amazingly talented Steve. You’re going to do great today no matter how your portfolio is organized. So give it.” 

“If I was so talented, I’d have gotten that job at Irena’s,” Steve rebutted, clutching his portfolio protectively. 

“The people at Irena’s are fucking idiots, that’s why you didn’t get the job there. And you didn’t even _want_ that job. Now give it.” 

“I didn’t want it, but it woulda been nice if they’d offered.” Reluctantly he passed the leather-bound book over into Tony’s waiting grabby-hands. “It’d be nice ta be the one doing the rejecting every once in a while, that’s all.” 

“You’re ridiculous. Now eat.” As Steve half-heartedly obeyed, Tony began to leaf though the portfolio, handling it with the kind of care he usually reserved exclusively for his robots and tech. That sent a surge of affection rushing through him, because Tony was just pretty much the best. If it was important to Steve, Tony took it as important as a matter of course, no questions asked. He was a solid bulwark of support, even if he could also be an anxious, forgetful mess of a human being. 

Steve figured that was the price of genius though. Wasn’t anything Steve couldn’t handle if it meant he got Tony outta the deal. 

“You took out the one of Bucky-doodle-dandy.” 

“He hates when you call him things like that.” 

“I know. I like the face he makes when I do though. You know the face?” 

“I know the face.” 

“It’s a great face. Why’d you take it out?” 

“The composition was garbage.” 

“You are an anxious little shit aren’t you? The composition was great. That’s the placement of stuff in a picture, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It was fine. But okay, you don’t want it in, that’s fine too. His mug would have scared everyone off anyway. Unless they started swooning. For some reason his broody shtick really makes some people swoon. It’s weird. You’re still not eating. And the order is great, Steve. If you came in for a graphic design job or something at SI, I’d hire you in a heartbeat.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re sleeping with me so I think you might be a little biased.” Steve felt the tips of his ears go red as he spread jam on a piece of toast, because they really were _sleeping_ together – nothing else. He wasn’t quite ready, and Tony’d never once pushed. They both just liked crawling into bed together and cuddling until they dropped off. 

“I can separate business and pleasure, _Steven_. I am affronted. Or offended. Maybe both? Can you be both, or is it an either-or thing?” God, he loved this man. 

“You can be both if you want, Tony.” 

“I notice you didn’t put an apology in your answer.” 

“Sure didn’t. Good ear.” 

“Well now I’m just hurt. I demand an extra-long hug when you leave to make up for it.” 

“Done. Do you wanna stay here again tonight, or should I meet you at your place?” 

“Can we stay at mine? I’ve got a few things I need to finish up for Pep in the ‘shop. If I don’t she’ll tattle to you. I hate that you’ve joined forces with my enemy, by the way.” 

“You adore Pepper and you know it you loon. And of course we can. I could make dinner, if you don’t want to leave the workshop early to do it.” 

Tony smiled brighter than the sun, and Steve knew it wasn’t because he was any good at cooking. His repertoire mostly consisted of chicken dishes that never came out quite right and sandwiches. Despite that, Tony’d eat every bit of whatever he put in front of the man… which was more than he did when he was the one cooking. Even now, Steve had toast, bacon, and a small stack of pancakes to eat; Tony had two pieces of toast and coffee Steve knew would be blacker than sin. Sighing softly, he pushed himself out of his chair and strolled over to the fridge. 

“That’d be great, Steve, if you really don’t mind. Maybe that breaded chicken thing you do? It’s my favorite.” As Tony spoke, Steve busied himself with pouring a glass of orange juice and then a bowl of cereal. Not his sensible and filling shredded wheat either, but the sugary monstrosity that Tony preferred. 

“I don’t mind, and sure. If you get JARVIS to email me a list, I’ll go get the grocery shopping for your place done this afternoon too.” 

“Will you get mad if I send Happy with you?” 

“Can you get him to promise not to tackle anyone to the ground today unless they actually have a gun?” 

“You do like asking for the impossible, don’t you? I’ll try my best babe.” 

“Then I’ll take Happy, but only because it keeps you from worrying.” 

“And because he’s really good at carrying things.” 

“And because he’s really good at carrying things,” Steve agreed before setting the cereal and OJ in front of Tony. “Eat. Please?” Tony grumbled playfully but did as he asked, a comfortable silence falling when Steve sat down to finish his own breakfast. Tony was done first, and immediately went to pack up Steve’s messenger bag. 

He knew it was mostly to keep his portfolio out of reach so he’d stop obsessing so hard. The galling thing was how well it worked. As soon as the book was out of his hands, his fretting had subsided to almost nothing. By the time Steve had gone to put his dishes in the sink, Tony had all his stuff ready and was waiting by the door. 

It was a little ritual they had, one that would probably seem silly to anyone looking in from an outsider’s perspective. Tony didn’t just hand over his bag, but instead settled it in exactly the right place on Steve’s shoulder. Then he held up Steve’s thin, fingertip-less gloves; internally cursing his terrible circulation, he nodded and Tony slipped them on for him without comment despite the warm weather. If it had been Tony leaving first, Steve would have checked for oil and grease stains on his clothes, straightened a tie if the occasion called for it, and tried to put Tony’s hair in some kind of order. It was another little way to show they cared and Steve liked it, no matter how much Buck teased that it made them seem like an old married couple. 

Once he was done with a quick inspection for lint, Tony reeled him in for a hug. For a long time, Steve had hated a lot about how he looked – he hated being tiny and short and sickly. But when he had his head tucked under Tony’s chin and Tony’s arms were wrapped tightly around him, none of that stuff could touch him. They fit together perfectly, and that was all that really mattered. 

As he’d threatened earlier, Tony held him even longer than usual, nose buried in his hair. Tony was extremely tactile, something Steve delighted in most days. After all, he never, ever had to beg or even really ask for affection, or worry that his gestures would be unwelcome – it was one of the many things he loved about Tony. 

After long minutes, Steve shifted just enough to tip his head back. Tony responded immediately with a soft peck to his lips, then another and another; each one lasted a little longer and was a little sweeter. Just as he was preparing for a doozy of a kiss – because _gosh_ could Tony kiss – the genius changed the game. He peppered small but obnoxiously loud kisses all over Steve’s face – his cheeks, eyelids, forehead, chin, nose, _everywhere_ until Steve was laughing, blushing and squirming helplessly. 

It was only then that Tony let him go, looking extremely pleased with himself. “You’re gonna knock ‘em dead at that interview Steve. I’ll try to remember to have JARVIS send you that list – if you don’t have it by lunchtime, text me a reminder. Should I have Happy pick you up at McFadden’s?” 

“That’d be fine. Have a good day Tony. Tell Dum-E I said hi, will ya?” 

“You just want him to spend all day drawing you a picture instead of doing his job. And it won’t even be a good drawing.” 

“I love his drawings, ya jerk.” Steve teased back, looking over his shoulder to where shaky doodles done by the ‘bot covered his fridge. “He’s your kid, ain’t he? You should be as proud of his art as I am.” 

“Dirty pool,” Tony accused, losing the fight against both a blush and a pleased smile. “Using my emotions against me. Fine, I’ll let him draw all damn day. Now get out of here and dazzle ‘em, sunshine. I’ll do the dishes before I leave. And good luck babe, even though I know you don’t need it.” 

“Thanks Tony. Love you.” 

“Love you too Steve.” 

Mornings with Tony maybe weren’t always exactly what most people would call ‘normal’, but Steve couldn’t get enough of them anyway. 

~.~.~

Contrary to his nickname, ‘Happy’ the bodyguard was almost always scowling at the world. Tony sometimes claimed it was an ironic name, Steve would call him a hipster, and then the conversation would devolve into either a tickle or pillow fight. Still, Happy was a good guy despite his gruff exterior, and completely devoted to Tony’s safety. Steve was pretty sure it was his life’s goal to take a bullet for his boss (or his boss’ spouse once he had one) which was, okay, a little odd. Different strokes for different folks though, and he was handy to have around whenever there were heavy things to carry.

He also never batted an eyelash if he saw Steve with a black eye or a split lip, which was a nice change of pace from the usual. He’d just ask ‘mugger of cat-caller?’, nod at Steve’s answer, then pass over a bottle of aspirin and sometimes a napkin to blot the blood with. Tony tended to freak the fuck out, Buck fretted like a mother hen, and everyone else he knew had a mixture of those two reactions. So really, Happy’s easy acceptance of Steve’s tendency to pick fights was a blessing.

Today though, there was no black eye and no bruised knuckles. There was just an interview that had gone really well, a perfectly reasonable shopping list from JARVIS, and several insane texts from Tony. Many of them would give Happy a heart attack and Pepper an aneurism; Steve just laughed, because his boyfriend was absolutely ridiculous.

“Tony wants to be an MMA fighter,” he told Happy casually as he slid into the passenger’s seat. He’d put a stop to the ‘sitting in the back’ nonsense pretty quick. He didn’t need a damned chauffer, and with his shitty hearing he needed to be closer than that to carry on any kind of conversation anyhow.

“Excuse me?”

“Yup. Saw a video online, so now he says he wants to get trained up and get in the cage.”

“Boss can’t even _box_.”

“I know.”

“He can’t hardly take a proper swing at me when we train, because he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt me. _Hurt_ me.” Happy added with a scoff, because the likelihood of that happening _was_ laughable.

“Yeah, that’s my Tony,” Steve agreed, fully aware of how impossibly fond of the man he sounded.

“The man steps around _worms on the sidewalk_ when it’s raining, for Christ’s sake.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“And he wants to be an MMA fighter?”

“Yup. Well, he did half an hour ago. He might’ve forgotten about it by now.”

Happy gave a snort of laughter as he pulled away from the curb, then shot a look in Steve’s direction before turning his attention to the road. “Boss said I’m not supposed to tackle anyone today.” Disapproval – or maybe disappointment was more accurate – was heavy in his voice, making Steve roll his eyes.

“There hasn’t been a story on me in four months, and there hasn’t been more than a brief mention of me in stories about Tony in almost three weeks – we’re old news, until they find some long-lost cousin or disgruntled friend for another tell-all. Nobody’s parked on my stoop anymore, and you know how New Yorkers are. They really don’t give a crap about actual celebrities, and I’m two steps above a nobody. So I’m not really in any danger, Happy. Probably not, anyway. I mean, if you see somebody with a gun who isn’t a police officer, by all means – tackle away.”

“What if people are acting shifty?”

“Again, it’s New York City. So ‘shifty looking’ is not really enough of a reason.”

“You ruin all my fun. How’d the interview go? Boss said you were excited for this one.”

“I think it went well. They’ll be calling in the next couple days to let me know.”

“You draw pretty good, so I’m sure it’s in the bag. Hey, if I gave you a couple bucks, could you do something for my nephew? It’s his birthday soon, and he’s real into superheroes and comics and stuff. I thought maybe you could help me out, give him something one-of-a-kind.”

“Sure Hap, no problem. Send me an email with the details?”

“Will do. Thanks Steve.” With that, the pair of them fell into an easy, good-natured argument about baseball. The frenzy around Steve and Tony’s relationship was currently in the ‘off’ phase, so he really didn’t need to take Happy everywhere with him, so he didn’t see him every day. Still, he was part of life with Tony, so Steve was pretty glad he liked the guy so much.

~.~.~

Stark Tower was a bit of an eye-sore, or at least that was what he told Tony when he wanted to wind the man up. It was also eco-friendly and getting more so every day, pretty dang comfortable, and it had JARVIS. That last thing alone completely made up for any possible ugliness in the tower’s design.

“Good afternoon Steven, Mr. Hogan.” The AI had refused to call him just Steve, but honestly anything was better than ‘Mr. Rogers’. Though Tony’d gotten a real kick out of playing ‘Won’t You Be My Neighbor’ over the speakers any time JARVIS had called him that for the first two months of their relationship. Tony was pretty damn easy to please sometimes.

“Hey JARVIS. Can you take us right up to the penthouse? We’ve got a lot of groceries. I’ll pop in to see Tony later.”

“Of course. I hope the list I provided was to your satisfaction?”

“Always is. If Tony made it I’d end up with bags of snacks and no actual food. So thanks for being more responsible.”

“As I have no taste buds, I find I _do_ care more for nutrition than the average American,” JARVIS answered, electronic voice somehow extremely dry and full of amusement. “Sir considers this a great failing on my part. I am pleased you disagree.”

Happy helped him get all the groceries into the penthouse’s kitchen, and then Steve sent him on his way. He was perfectly capable of putting everything away on his own, after all, and Pepper would be getting ready to leave SI soon. Since Happy flat-out refused to let anyone else escort the lovely Ms. Potts most of the time, he really did need to get going. Steve thought everyone’d be happier if the guy would just ask her out already.

As he sorted through everything and made sure it all ended up in the proper place, Steve chatted with JARVIS. It felt strange when he remembered how _uncomfortable_ he’d been with the AI at first. Bucky’d been tickled pink since the moment of their introduction, most people seemed to take it in stride, and Tony treated JARVIS like he was just another person. One without hands, sure, but a person all the same.

Steve? At first JARVIS had honestly creeped him out a little. Knowing the AI was always just… _there_ had been downright unsettling. He’d thought he’d never get used to it, because it was fucking weird – so far out of the normal that he almost felt like he shouldn’t have to get used to it. Except getting used to it meant he got to stay with Tony, so he’d worked on it… but for months, Steve’d been pretty sure JARVIS was the one aspect of Tony’s life that would always make him just a little uneasy.

It had taken a while, but his feelings had definitely undergone a dramatic shift. JARVIS was amazing, and he seemed to be growing and changing almost every day, which was fascinating to watch. He was still pretty ‘young’ according to Tony – only about five years old. Since he was a learning AI, that really wasn’t a very long time to have been on-line, though most tech would be considered outdated in that same timespan. Steve thought JARVIS was certainly the most advanced five-year-old ever, but still – he was a child. _Tony’s_ child, which had been the realization that shifted mere acceptance of JARVIS into affection for him.

The AI was happy to talk about anything Steve brought up and provide him information on important dates on his creator’s schedule – a blessing when Tony needed to be cajoled into attending board meetings or black tie affairs. He’d look up anything from recipes to ball game scores to random trivia Steve’d come across and wanted to investigate, and he did it all with a snarky attitude that Steve thoroughly enjoyed. It was nice, having someone to talk to while he puttered. He was pretty sure that was the driving reason behind the AI’s creation in the first place. Tony just didn’t have a lot of friends, and while Dum-E was great the ‘bot was also extremely limited. JARVIS had probably eased some of that loneliness, and he was pretty fucking impressive as far as tech went to boot.

Tony and Steve both liked to eat late, so it wasn’t quite time to start dinner yet. Still, he was ready to see his boyfriend so they could report on their days and maybe cuddle just a little. Besides, Tony’d probably skipped lunch, which was all the excuse he needed. He cut up some apples and cheese into slices, then arranged them on a plate in a way that was pleasing to the eye. He couldn’t cook for crap, but Pepper joked that if Tony ever started a catering company, he should hire Steve to make sure all the plates were actually pretty.

Being one of three people with total access to Tony’s workshop (besides the genius himself, of course) sure was enough to make a guy feel special. As soon as he stepped in the elevator, JARVIS closed the doors and started it moving down to the ‘shop level without Steve needing to say a word. It was nice not to have to wait on Tony, who was sometimes impossible to pull away from his work, once he arrived. He could just put his hand on the scanner, then punch in a quick code when prompted and the doors opened for him with a ‘whoosh’ that delighted Bucky every time he heard it. Bucky was a bit of a science fiction nerd.

Steve’d been in the workshop plenty of times – near daily the past few months – but that first look inside never failed to take his breath away. How could he be unmoved, when it was like looking into the future? All those holograms and robotics and other tech minutia… it was all pretty fantastic. And while he’d be the first to admit he didn’t really know much about Tony was actually doing, he loved watching the man do it regardless.

The genius didn’t look up from his tinkering when Steve entered, but the lack of pounding music meant he’d known Steve was on the way. Known, stopped working, then had just _one more_ idea he needed to get out. The man wasn’t using any of his more dangerous tools, so Steve felt okay with coming up behind him and slipping the plate into Tony’s sightline.

“Oonnnnne sec babe, and then you’ll have my full attention.”

“Take your time Tony.” Steve answered, stepping into his boyfriend’s space and wrapping his arms around his waist. He’d had people complain about his boniness before, and his too-pointy chin – apparently neither were good for cuddling. Tony didn’t seem to think so though, because he’d never said boo about it. He just gave a sigh of happiness as Steve settled against his back and never minded a bit when Steve’s chin dug into his shoulder. His closeness wasn’t enough to distract the genius completely, so he got to watch Tony’s beautiful hands at work. They flew over circuitry in intricate movements that reminded him of a dance, all elegance and confidence and perfection.

“Sorry, I was gonna lose my train of thought. Hey babe.” Tony murmured once he was done, then turned his head and gave Steve a long, slow kiss that made his knees feel a little weak.

Tony was really, _really_ good at kissing.

“Hey,” he answered when they finally parted, breathless and blushing about it. “Helluva greeting you’ve got going there Tony.”

“Only for you.”

“Well duh.” Tony worried, sometimes, that Steve would think he was cheating. He figured that as long as Tony was still cooking for him he didn’t have anything to worry about. Cheating wasn’t really in man’s DNA anyhow, so he really didn’t think about it much at all. The throwaway reassurances Tony gave were mostly ignored, because of _course_ Steve knew he would never do that. “What are you working on?”

“StarkTablets still. Next gen ones – R&D can’t get ‘em to stop overheating and shutting down, and every time I come up with a solution they manage to fuck it up with new features. But that’ll be fine. Not important. How did the interview go?” Steve had the full weight of his attention now. Well, all except for the sliver he was using to put a slice of cheese on top of an apple slice to nibble on.

“Really great – it’s a much better fit than Irena’s would have been. They were genuinely interested in getting my take and ideas on the project.”

“Where there vibes? Good ones?”

“Many good vibes.”

“That’s awesome babe. When will you know for sure?”

“They’re gonna call within the next two days – I guess they have a few other people to meet with before they make a final decision. Oh, and they mentioned another project with them where I might be a good fit. So even if I don’t get the job they advertised for, they might bring me in for something else.”

“Well that’s it then, we’re celebrating. Not tonight, because I’ve got work and I want your chicken, but maybe Thursday? We could do a thing. We’ll do a thing. Unless you don’t want to do a thing?”

“Thursday we’ll do a thing. Here or at my place?”

“Should just move here, and then it would be ‘our’ place and planning shit would be less complicated.” Tony mumbled through the last slice of cheese. There was still some apple left, but Steve wasn’t too surprised. Tony was kind of a sugar junkie and avoided ‘healthy’ foods at snack time – he was honestly happy any of the apple had been eaten at all.

“If you ever asked me seriously to move in, I’d consider it.”

Because that the one thing about Tony – sometimes it was a little hard to know where his head was at. His heart Steve had no question about, but sometimes he bounced from great idea to great idea. It wasn’t really his fault; his brain was busier than New York City streets at rush hour. For his work that was great. For the rest of life it made things hard… mostly for the people around him. Tony would bring up things like Steve moving in randomly, almost as a joke, then didn’t mention it again for weeks. It was just a little confusing, that was all.

As he’d expected, Tony blushed and looked away, expression doing a few complicated things before he cleared his throat. “Right. Um. So Thursday? We’ll do a thing… here? Is that okay?”

“More than. I look forward to it.” Steve reached up and took hold of Tony’s chin, gently turning his head so he could lay a sweet kiss of his own on the genius’ lips. “I want to get a couple things done in my studio before dinner tonight. So I’ll start cooking in… an hour? Ish? So it’d be ready in about two hours. Is that enough time for you to finish up? I know this overheating issue has been a bitch to solve.”

“If R&D would get their shit together… but yeah, that should be enough time. Thanks for the visit and the snack babe. Oh! Dum-E’s latest masterpiece should be done by then too – I’ll bring it up with me.” Sure enough, when Steve glanced to the small ‘art area’ of Tony’s ‘shop (i.e. the place where Steve sat and sketched sometimes), there was Dum-E, laboring over a sheet of paper.

“No, don’t. I’ll come down to get it after so I can talk to him about it.”

“He _beeps_ Steve.”

“So it’s a matter of interpretation – that’s fine. All artists deserve a chance to talk about their work Tony. So there.”

After a few more kisses, Steve grabbed the (mostly) empty plate and headed up to his studio. His studio in Tony’s tower, anyway, which had been the cause of their biggest fight to date. Tony, being the thoughtful and infuriating man that he was, didn’t even discuss it with Steve. He’d just gone ahead and renovated an _entire floor_ , spending more money than Steve could comfortably think about. Half of that was dedicated studio space, chock-full of the best art supplies money could buy.

That would have been enough all on its own to give Steve a small stroke, but the other half of the floor. The other half. _That_ had been set aside as a fucking gallery where Steve could display his art. So he could have parties and showings and promote himself, Tony had explained, all excitement and energy and no damned self-control.

Steve had, admittedly, snapped just a little. The argument had been epic, and the aftermath nearly devastating. A ‘Boy’s Suck’ night out with Pepper, Bucky, and Pepper’s friend Natasha had been the only thing that saved their relationship. He’d later admitted to overreacting, Tony’d admitted to going way overboard, and they’d both committed to being better at communicating with each other.

Now he loved his studio, even if he did keep renting the much smaller one he’d had before. It was closer to his apartment, so that was better for when they slept there. He just didn’t always feel like making the trek aaaaall the way to Stark Tower before he could start creating.

And if he’d changed the lease to something month-to-month just in case… well. It was just responsible to be prepared for any changes that might occur in their daily lives.

~.~.~

“Okay. So. I asked Jay to write a speech for me-”

“Which I declined to do most adamantly.”

“Whatever. It wasn’t that bad of me to ask.”

“Ms. Potts seemed to disagree when I reached out to her, Sir.”

“JARVIS, you… called Pepper?”

“Yes, he did, the traitor, and then he made me talk to her too. And she _laughed_ at me, then said having Jay do it was ‘completely unacceptable’ and ‘ridiculously inappropriate’, and then she laughed more and told me to just do it myself. I would fire her, but she sort of owns slash runs the company now, so whatever.”

“Tony? Sweetheart? You’re losing me here.”

“I just wanted you to know that you _could_ have had a really great, moving and not fucked up speech written by Jay, but they both said ‘no’. It would have helped with his emotional development, by the way.”

“I believe setting appropriate boundaries to be just as important to my development, Sir.”

“I _will_ reprogram you. Shush. Anyway, Steve, he said no, so now I have to try and I’m gonna fuck it up and maybe you’ll get mad and leave because it won’t come out right. So yeah. If that happens, it’s because Jay wouldn’t help me and Pepper wouldn’t make him.”

“Help you do what? I’m sort of fumbling in the dark here. Help me out?”

“What you said, earlier. You’re… you were right. I was afraid you’d say ‘no’, so I kept… if it was a joke and you didn’t, that would be okay, you know? But it isn’t. A joke, I mean. And… and I do want you here. Full-time, I mean. Like, not just ‘having a drawer in my bedroom and some space for your stuff in my bathroom’ here. I want the full monty, where you live here. With me. Like, in the same bedroom and everything. It isn’t about sex! We absolutely do not need to start having sex in order for this to happen. I just… I like you in my space, and I’m… I’m _in_ this, and I think you are too, so… will you? Move in with me? This is me trying really hard to ask seriously, by the way, even if I can’t seem to connect my brain to my mouth.”

“I… this is really something you want?”

“Yes. Absolutely. You can have your own bedroom – hell, your own floor even – if that’s what you need to feel comfortable. I just… want you here. With me. Jay would have done this better.”

“Oh Tony. Sweetheart, I never needed some perfect speech. I just needed to know it was something you actually wanted.”

“It is.”

“Then okay – of course I’ll move in. I don’t need my own floor either, so don’t you dare renovate one. We could maybe start moving things this weekend, if you wanted. My lease at the apartment comes up in two months, so we have some time to ferry stuff from there to here and sell what I don’t want to keep – I’d prefer that over one exhausting trip some Saturday when I could be doing way better things with my time.”

“Uh… that’s… really? That easy?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s… wow. I was sure you’d… really? Really really? Fuck, that is just… it’s great. Amazing actually. Really?”

“Really.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Wow. I’m sorry I just… I thought we’d have to have a discussion, and I prepared a whole argument even if the wording is shit, and I just… I love you so fucking much, you know? So this is just the greatest thing ever, and I think my brain is shutting down a little. Is this how normal people feel? Because as much as I love you, I’d like my brain back. I need it so I can invent shit and keep you in pretty paints.”

“You are fucking ridiculous. But hey – I’m in this too, Tony, all the way. I love you, and I wanna be with you full time, full monty, more than just a drawer and half the sink.”

“Uh, excuse you, you had more than half the shelf space in the shower too.”

“Because you like to steal my shampoo.”

“Borrow, babe. _Borrow_ your shampoo. I always replace it! It just smells so good.”

“So stop buying the kind you were using before, Tony, and just buy my brand.”

“I don’t… know how? You took over the grocery shopping, but someone else buys all my other stuff, and I have no idea how they know what to get. I make Happy go get your shampoo.”

“ _Tony_.”

“Whaaaaaat?”

“I hate to interrupt this scene of romantic bliss, but I’ve informed Ms. Potts that the situation has been resolved. She says both congratulations, and that Sir owes her a pair of shoes – she knew you could do it.”

“Jay! You can’t just… ugh. I’d be angrier if I wasn’t so proud of you and so damn happy with life in general right now. Steve’s gonna live here with us, Jay!”

“Indeed Sir – wonderful news. I shall have to coin a new title to use for him.”

“I would really prefer if you didn’t – Steve would be fine.”

“Utterly inappropriate, Steven. Even using your given name is verging on deplorable.”

“Hey, hey! No arguing over dinner – we’ve got time to get that all sorted, because Steve’s gonna be here all the time. This is so fucking awesome. Oh, and the chicken is great too babe.”

It wasn’t, Steve knew that. The breading was a little soggy and the chicken under it was a touch rubbery. Tony’d already made his way through two servings though, so he didn’t say anything. He figured it was a lie he didn’t mind because it meant Tony was eating. It was just part of the ins and outs of their relationship.

Really, all things considered, it was a lie he wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, the 'battle/fight/confrontation' fic is gonna be the fight that was glossed over in this fic. I really don't know which one I wanna write next, so if any votes happen in the next couple days I'll go with those.
> 
> Visit me on [Tumblr](http://tahlreth.tumblr.com/)?


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